


Screwing Around

by thelonelywriter



Series: 30 Day OTP NSFW Challenge [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Castiel, Floor Sex, Football Player Dean, Hate to Love, Jock Dean, Love/Hate, M/M, Power Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You,” he began, walking forward so Cas was walking backwards. “You have been the fucking bane of my existence for so fucking long, and I am completely-” He didn’t finish his sentence because Castiel, the graceful one he was, stumbled, and grabbed onto Dean as he fell backwards onto the floor.</p><p>It was then that Dean realized that he had accidentally let out a little squeak because he was <i>on top</i> of Castiel, their bodies were flush together, and he could feel the warmth of Castiel on him like he had dreamed of so so many times. And he was noticing all these little details, like the myriad hues of blues that were swirling in his eyes, and the smoothness of his skin, and he was so close to him, close enough to feel his breath that smelled like cinnamon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screwing Around

**Author's Note:**

> Day Seventeen was, 'On the floor,' and sorry i haven't quite been posting regularly, my life is really hectic right now :/ (Edit: Psst, this now has a sequel, the link is down below!!)

Hatred at first sight, what a beautiful thing. It started when Dean Winchester, star football player on the University team, and Castiel Novak, who had a full scholarship, free ride on his way to study the fine arts, were paired together as roommates. One look at each other, and it was fake smiles and firm handshakes, then silence from either side of the room.

The two tried to stay out of each other's way, really, but it's hard when their classes were at the same times, so their breaks were all at the same time, therefore the two were constantly together. 

The unspoken tension and hatred began with a pure conversation starter on Dean's part, one that didn't fit well with Cas. Castiel tried to be a calm guy, he tried to appreciate people for who they were, but Dean, ~~attractive~~ Dean, was a little rough around the edges.

"So you, uh, ever do anything other than draw?" Dean asked, watching Castiel sketch across the room, sitting on his bed.

"I paint, sculpt, perform expressive art, and use unmethodical forms of art to gather my portfolio. So, no, I don't just draw," Castiel replied, not moving a muscle. He realized that it sounded a little rude, so he went to open his mouth, but Dean, who registered it the same way, retorted.

"Wow, that's really something there, Cas," Dean replied, the nickname slipping out, a tint of sarcasm to his voice. Castiel heard the name, and squinted over at Dean.

"You just called me Cas," he stated, and Dean huffed a breath of laughter.

"Yup. I see you have pretty good observational skills too there, Cas," he said with raised eyebrows. Castiel bit the inside of his cheek, taking a deep breath before returning to his work.

The air held in place for a minute as both boys thought over their general rudeness and the commentary of the other. Finally, Dean spoke up. "Listen, man, I didn't seem to come off as a dick," he said, and Castiel softened a bit, looking over at Dean.

"It's alright," Cas replied, and Dean felt momentary relief because, honestly, Cas was pretty attractive, and maybe if the mutual tension dissolved between them, he could have a chance with Castiel, whom he was sure wasn't as douchey as he may have come across. After all, Dean did believe that all art freaks like Cas could be a bit pretentious at times. Then again, he was blind to see that jocks could also be dicks.

\---

The tension eased, but not for long, because the first incident occurred. Their schedules were switched a bit, so each of them had an hour or so to themselves. It was when Castiel was painting that it happened.

Castiel was carefully yet still messily attempting a splatter painting. Blues, reds, lavenders, forest greens all flew down unto the canvas and the tarp around it. It was when one particular pink glob of paint caught his attention. Why? Because it had landed on Dean's leather jacket. 

Castiel stared wide eyed at first because he knew how much Dean treasured his jacket, for what reason he didn't know. Castiel looked frantically around, grabbing a shirt that he believed to be his, and wiped off the paint. Still, a stain remained, so Castiel, panicking, grabbed a water bottle and poured a bit on the shirt, rubbing the stain furiously. Then, he paused. "Shit," he swore, pulling back to look at the water stain. Castiel had completely forgotten in his frazzled state that water didn't work on leather. 

Before he could do anything else, he realized that he was already late for his class. Mumbling curses, and glancing at Dean's jacket, he quickly gathered his things, exiting the dorm and sighing as he walked down the hallway.

\---

When Castiel arrived back at the dorm, Dean was standing, jacket held up by two fingers. "What the fuck is this?" Dean asked in aggravation. Castiel walked forward, cringing.

"Dean, I'm so fucking sorry, I just, I was painting and it got on your jacket, and I tried to clean it," Castiel spluttered out. Dean smiled, tilting his head.

"And you used my favorite shirt to do it," he told Cas, and Castiel's eyes widened.

"Dean, shit, I thought it was mine," Castiel apologized. Dean pursed his lips and nodded.

"You know, I cannot wait to spend this year with a douchebag like you," Dean spat out, dropping his jacket on his bed before bumping shoulders with Castiel, opening the door and leaving.

And Castiel hated to say it because Dean had just called him a douchebag, and Castiel still wasn't quite sure if Dean was one too, which he expected he was. But, Dean looked really fucking hot when he was angry, and Castiel secretly wouldn't have minded getting a piece of that ass.

\---

"Alright, Cassie, time for a little retaliation," Dean murmured to himself as he crossed the line of their empty room. He didn't quite know what he wanted to do, all he knew was that he needed some way of getting Castiel back for what happened to his jacket.

He looked over Castiel's messy little art station, and as he did so he couldn't help but think of Castiel, of his always messy hair, his paint splattered shirts, and the occasional grin he would let out. Dean never admitted to admiring the way Castiel looked when he sketched or painted, the way his face looked so calm, so at peace. 

Dean shook himself out of his little daydream. No, Castiel wasn't that attractive, and Dean hated him. Yeah, exactly. So, Dean continued looking around, thinking of what would really piss Cas off. Then, he found it. A brand new packaged set of fancy charcoals that must've cost a pretty penny laying right there on Castiel's bed. Dean clucked his tongue, taking them in his hands, and crossing the room to shove them under his mattress. Maybe now Castiel would know not to fuck Dean's things up.

\---

Castiel hated pointing fingers, he hated fights, he hated conflict. But Dean seemed to be the opposite.

It had been nearly two weeks, and Castiel couldn't find his brand new, unused charcoals that he had been saving up for. And yes, he did misplace a fair amount of things, he did have habits of being discombobulated, messy, and bad at finding things, but he _knew_ that he would not have misplaced what he had coveted after his friends had gotten the set.

And Dean was acting unusually... kind lately. He was serene, yet he always had a little smirk on his face, always a mischievous look gracing his gorgeous features. But Castiel was finally done, and he was going to let Dean know that.

He stomped into the room one day, standing in front of Dean who was laying on his bed, listening to music. Dean smiled, sitting up, and pulling out one earbud. "Hey Cas," he said calmly, knowing it would only rile Castiel up more.

"Where are they?" Castiel inquired. Dean gave him a confused look.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

"Listen, I know you're pissed I ruined your jacket, but hiding a brand new set of _my_ charcoals? I've been looking for weeks, and yeah, I misplace things, but you have been wearing that smug little look on your face for both those weeks, so just tell me what you did with them," Castiel growled, and Dean paused because he had never seen Cas angry, and he looked hot as hell like that.

But then, he dismissed the thought, smiling widely at Cas, reaching under his bed, and handing Castiel the charcoals. "Sorry, thought you didn't need them. Just in case though, I kept 'em safe for ya," Dean chirped, and Castiel held back the need to slap Dean there and then.

"You fucking prick," Castiel grit out. Dean's lips curled into a smile.

"Same to you."

\---

It went on like that for weeks, and neither boy could tell if they loved it, or hated it. One thing they were each sure of was they were silently dreaming of getting in each other's pants. Neither would ever let that on, they covered it in hatred and pranks, but deep down it was there. And one day, it snapped.

Castiel had just deviously painted a crude picture on the back of Dean's second favorite shirt (the one that had become favorite after the pink jacket water stain incident,) and Dean walked in silently, soon grabbing the shirt to change into after football practice, and he paused. Castiel chuckled, getting up from where he sat on the bed, walking right next to Dean. “Shall we go for a third favorite shirt, Dean?” he whispered, and Dean turned around with pure fire in his eyes.

“You,” he began, walking forward so Cas was walking backwards. “You have been the fucking bane of my existence for so fucking long, and I am completely-” He didn’t finish his sentence because Castiel, the graceful one he was, stumbled, and grabbed onto Dean as he fell backwards onto the floor.

It was then that Dean realized that he had accidentally let out a little squeak because he was _on top_ of Castiel, their bodies were flush together, and he could feel the warmth of Castiel on him like he had dreamed of so so many times. And he was noticing all these little details, like the myriad hues of blues that were swirling in his eyes, and the smoothness of his skin, and he was so close to him, close enough to feel his breath that smelled like cinnamon.

Castiel paused because he realized Dean was staring, he realized that Dean was roaming his face with his eyes, that his breathing was quickening. And then, it was Castiel’s turn to admire all the freckles and the emerald green eyes, and every single detail that made him, that made him look like a sculpture. Castiel couldn’t help but glance down, look at his lips because they were what he had wanted for so long. And then, Dean did what Castiel never thought he would do. He kissed him.

Lips were crashing down onto Castiel's passionately, and Cas could tell that they held so much more than anger or love. The kiss was never timid, only furious as Castiel opened his mouth, beckoning Dean in so their tongues could meet, and Castiel could taste the sweetness of Dean. Their tongues slid together, no precise movements, or tricks for show, just a desperate reach for the other, for something. 

Castiel let out soft moans into the kiss, and Dean relished in the noises as he pulled away breathlessly, hurrying to kiss along the line of Castiel's scruffy jaw, nipping and sucking at his neck until bruises bloomed on his pale skin. Castiel offered his neck up, grinning as his hands slipped up Dean's shirt, his nails digging harshly into Dean's skin. Dean whined softly against Castiel's skin, and Castiel chuckled. "What's wrong, pretty boy? Don't like it rough?" Castiel teased. Dean felt dregs of anger simmering softly inside of him. He could tell that this would _definitely_ be interesting. 

Dean nipped at Castiel's ear, whispering into the shell of it. "Depends, I'm not so sure that you can handle it rough, angel," he cooed, and Castiel grit his teeth.

"Just try me," Cas growled back, his dick perking up at the low chuckle Dean let out against his skin. Dean untangled their legs from where they hadn't moved when they had fallen, and straddled Castiel, aligning their crotches together. Underneath him, Castiel wriggled out of his shirt, spreading himself out as if on display for Dean. A smug smile graced his features as he spoke. "Go ahead, mark me up. I told you I like it rough," he stated. Dean didn't hesitate to start with Castiel's nipples, pinching and tweaking the hardened pink buds until Castiel was gasping softly, squeezing his eyes shut when Dean moved closer, taking one in his mouth, and sucking hard enough to make Castiel yelp. 

Dean eventually moved on, leaving Castiel's nipples red as he continued on to kiss and nip Castiel's chest, bruises appearing with every harsh suck he gave. Castiel's hands found Dean's head, simply resting there, gripping his hair tightly. Then, Castiel found out that Dean had a little kink. 

Dean let out a moan, his hips thrusting down, searching for friction as Castiel's hands grasped onto and strands long enough and tugged. Experimentally, Castiel did the same thing again, rewarded with the same response. Castiel let out a shaky chuckle, smoothing his fingers through Dean's hair, listening to him purr softly. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" Castiel inquired, and Dean blushed a bit, nodding. "Aww, you look so cute when you blush," Castiel cooed, taking his hands away from Dean's hair. Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel, crawling up his body, pinning his arms above Castiel's head.

"Shut up," he grit out. Castiel tilted his head, smiling sweetly.

"Make me," he dared, and Dean grinned, moving a hand down, palming at Castiel's hardened cock. Castiel took a breathy intake of air, his eyes fluttering shut, his lips parted as he bucked up into the touch. Dean ground his palm down even harder, and Cas tilted his head back even more, letting Dean lick over the bruises he had made there earlier. "C- can we get to the part where you fuck me?" Castiel asked shakily. Dean pulled his hand away as Castiel whimpered at the loss, and Dean took his shirt off, beginning to unbuckle his belt and throw that aside too.

Dean stood up, slipping off his pants and boxers, hurrying to his bedside table to grab lube and a condom. When he turned around, Castiel was lying, propped up on his elbows, hardened cock leaking precome against his stomach. Dean paused, staring for a moment, because Castiel looked like art himself, laid out there, breathing heavy. "Enjoying the view?" Castiel questioned smugly. Dean just shot him a glare, and Castiel grinned. "What a sexy little glare you have there," he commented. Dean sat back down on the floor, squeezing Cas' dick once, eliciting a whimper from him.

"What sweet little whimpers you have there," Dean retorted, Castiel just groaning in annoyance at the retaliation. Dean smiled, running his hands along the taut muscle of Castiel's thighs, smoothing his palms along the outside of them, then moving to the inside. Castiel spread his legs, and Dean grinned, bringing one hand down to encircle Castiel's dick in a light fist.

Castiel whined at the occasional pass off Dean's rough hand, but it wasn't enough. He needed more friction, more something, more _Dean._ "Dean," he whimpered. "Please," he breathed out, and Dean smirked, watching Castiel desperately fuck his hips upwards into Dean's fist.

"You want more, angel?" Dean asked sweetly, and Castiel nodded furiously. Dean pulled out the lube, popping it open with the other hand as he squirted some onto his finger. He took away his fist, but pressed a finger to Castiel's rim, and Castiel hissed at the coldness of it, but quickly relaxed, letting Dean slip it slowly all the way in.

Dean sat back on his heels, watching Castiel breathe, his eyes shut, fists clenched. Dean hadn't realized he'd been staring until Castiel spoke up with a little quirk upwards of his lips. "I know I'm attractive but you don't have to stare at me for so long. And put in a second finger while you're at it," Castiel demanded, and Dean gaped, but slipped in a second finger. 

"I wasn't staring," Dean said, immediately searching for Castiel's prostate. Castiel snorted, opening one eye.

"Yeah, and I wasn't enjoying your finger inside of me," he quipped back, and before he could continue, Dean found that little spot inside of Castiel that had him biting his lip once again, letting out a long, low moan. Dean smirked, stroking hard over it so that Castiel was rolling his hips down onto Dean's fingers. "Fuck, right there," Castiel breathed out as Dean kept thrusting his fingers in and out, hooking them around Castiel's rim before sinking them back in. 

"Dean," Castiel keened. "C'mon, get a third finger in there," he panted, and Dean had to hold back a shaky moan because he didn't want to admit to it, but Castiel was sexy as fuck when he was commanding.

Dean slipped in another finger so that three were thrusting into him, and Castiel was breathing heavy, moving in the rhythm of Dean's fingers until he couldn't take it anymore, and he was grappling for Dean, who pulled his fingers out as Castiel dragged him down for a sloppy kiss, then a huff of air as Dean pulled away, grabbing the condom and the lube. 

Dean swore he had never put on a condom and been ready so fast. As Castiel wrapped his legs tightly around Dean's waist, Dean slowly sank in, his eyes squeezing shut as his mouth opened because Castiel felt like nothing Dean had imagined.

Castiel gave an impatient tug of his legs, and Dean opened his eyes to find Castiel grinning deviously below him. "You gonna fuck me like a man, pretty boy?" he questioned in a goading tone. Dean growled, pulling back so he was almost out of Castiel before slamming back in. Castiel actually seemed a bit surprised that Dean was doing as he had hoped, but Cas tried not to let it show as Dean's hands grasped Castiel's hips and pulled, thrusting into him a second time. "C'mon Dean, you can do a lot better than that," Castiel critiqued, and Dean slammed his hips back in again, enough to make Castiel jolt back on the floor, his palms flying out to keep himself from skidding. He chuckled, shoving his hips forward. "Yeah, there you go," he encouraged as Dean began a steady pace, deep, harsh thrusts that were going deeper and deeper each time.

Dean gripped desperately at Castiel's sides and hips, making sure that Castiel wasn't going anywhere, that he could feel every minute detail of his thrusts, so he didn't miss a beat as Dean pounded into him, red nail marks and bruises left on his skin. But Castiel was more feisty than Dean had anticipated when he had dreamed of fucking Castiel senseless. "Is that all you got?" Castiel whispered as he pulled Dean down by one hand on the back of his neck. Dean smirked, aligning his thrusts just right, and Castiel was swallowing his words. 

"Fuck, Dean, oh God," Castiel gasped, his back arching into the thrusts, meeting them so that his mouth was no longer sassy, only begging pleas. "Oh my God, don't stop," Castiel breathed out, Dean moving his hips in little circles, then thrusting them back in again. Dean grinned down at Castiel who was a fucking vision, his eyelashes prominent against his pale skin, his chest and cheeks tinted pink, bruises dappling his skin. 

Castiel breathed slack jawed into the rhythm of him and Dean, his cock slapping between their stomachs with each and every thrust, sending Cas only closer to the edge. He could feel the white hot sensation of pleasure cresting, his mouth letting out babbling curses and pleas as Dean whispered four words that had Castiel coming harder than he had in a while. "Come for me, angel."

Castiel let out a choked moan, and Dean's name as he shot hot streaks of white across his own stomach and Dean's, Dean who was literally coming from just the sight, the fact that Cas had come just because he had told him to. 

Dean's arms came down beside Castiel as he let out a heavy breath, taking a moment before he pulled out to look down at Castiel, who was relaxing his arched back, sighing as he laid numbly on the floor. After moments of not speaking, Dean stood up on wobbly legs to throw the condom out before collapsing back down next to Castiel.

The two sat in silence until their breathing and their heart rates returned to semi normal. "Does that make up for the jacket?" Castiel asked tentatively, and Dean snorted.

"That makes up for every damn thing you did to me," Dean responded. Castiel looked over at him fondly.

"I'm sorry for, you know, everything," Castiel mumbled. Dean just smiled, and shook his head.

"It's fine, I was a dick to you too," Dean admitted, but then he reached for Castiel's hand, and interlaced their fingers. "You, uh, maybe, I don't know, think that this could work?" Dean asked quietly. Castiel grinned widely, giving him a kiss.

"I think it can."

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you guys thought, and let me know what you'd like to see in the future!!! :) (Edit: I felt like writing a sequel so I did just that :) [Here ya go!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4834925)


End file.
